Fashion: Yarn Style

Glistening Beaded Vest!

 

Here it is—a beaded vest, Glisten, designed by Kim Hargreaves. I really like the way the silver crystal beads and charcoal yarn combined into a subtly shimmering fabric.

 

I think if you are going to use symmetrical beads this way to create an all-over fabric, you should keep the piece small. Some of the large-scale all-over beaded jackets and pullovers I have seen look jarring, as if the fabric had come down with small pox or freckles. That effect is particularly pronounced when red beads are combined with white yarn. I tried to avoid that effect by keeping the fabric on the dark side and by making a sleeveless, V-neck piece, so that it serves as an accent to another garment rather than dominating all by itself. When you create an eye-catching textured garment, it is important to consider how that texture will be used. Is it forming a counterpoint to a silk top, or a print? If so, do the crystal beads pick up the colors of one part of the print? There are so many possible color and texture combinations with adding beaded pieces to one's wardrobe, and I think a vest like this can become a really versatile completer piece!

 

 

Kim Hargreaves’ pattern was easy to follow and I found the beading to go smoothly. This is one of the first vest patterns I have followed, and I think that if I were to do it again, I would make some alterations to suit my figure. First of all, the armhole edges slope in too much for my broad shoulders, making it look as if my upper arms are much bigger than they are:

 

This probably means I will wear this most of the time with a long-sleeved blouse underneath.

 

Also, the front V was so exaggerated and the waist so small that I found the vest extremely hard to button. Usually I love a small waist, but this was actually too much! However, I really like the look of it worn open, as that is more modern, and allows it to be an engaging, textured layering piece that complements the blouse underneath. But this is not a waistcoat, it is a vest. In order to make it a button-up waistcoat, I would have needed to have made it several sizes larger than normal. I guess I’ll file that away for future reference. Still, if you are looking for a fun, easy beaded project I think Glisten is a good starting point.

 

 

 

Glamour with Beaded Cardigans

Michelle Obama wearing J. Crew beaded cardigan, 2009

 

Remember this fabulous beaded cardigan that Michelle Obama made famous? J. Crew sold out of this cardigan a few hours after this press photo of her appeared. Ever since I saw this dazzling piece, I have been contemplating making a beaded sweater of my own. My first step towards this goal was to register for Stitches West. That knitting conference was a true extravaganza of fabulous yarn, designs, and knitting celebrities! But the best part was the class I took on Knitting with Beads by Karen Frisa. As an instructor, she was extremely organized, and to the point. We learned how to knit a beaded purse using 4 different techniques, including “hooking” a bead onto your yarn as you go using a tiny crochet hook, which prevents the need to prestring the yarn.

 

 

I learned that beads that are hooked on with a crochet needle sink into the fabric, so that they are less visible on the surface. In contrast, the beads which are strung on the yarn beforehand tend to stay at the top of the knitted surface, and are more prominent. It was really interesting to compare these different techniques. I have dabbled with incorporating beads into my knitting before, but was scared off by the reports I heard of how difficult it was. I was also deterred by the fear of turning out nothing but a “craft” project, as many of the beaded projects that are available seem more fit for summer camp 101. But these gorgeous beaded sweaters by Naim Khan kept haunting me:

 

 

 

Last year, I decided to pay a tribute to Khan by attaching beads to the neckline of my sweater by choosing a strand of beaded lace that harmonized with my yarn. This way, instead of knitting beads into my fabric, I simply attached the beaded lace to the finished knitted surface using a whip stitch:

 

 

While I liked that effect, I am a magpie at heart, and strongly attracted to shiny, glittering things. According to Susan Caygill, the inventor of color analysis, this is part of my coloring. The winter color palette involves not only blue-tinted hues, ranging from white to black and pure pigments, but textures that are particular to their dramatic coloring.

 

Just like the glitter of ice on a pine tree, Winters are attracted to textures that shine—crystals, silks, and beads. I got really excited by Caygill's theory, as I have always been more drawn to lush and shiny fabrics such as silk, velvet, sequins and beads. My challenge has always been to play these shiny elements down in my wardrobe by pairing them with tweed or denim or cotton to prevent a perpetual opera look.

 

I remember the first time a fashionable friend of mine took a tour of my closet and gasped in astonishment when she discovered I had half a dozen vintage gowns, but not a single pair of jeans. Shaking her head, she said, “you just can’t wear these romantic textures together, it’s not modern.  What are you going to wear your velvet to work with, silk? You need a way to tone it down!”

 

Well, I have dutifully followed my friend's advice, and spent the last few years knitting tweed and textured jackets to pair with the retro pieces I love:

 

As you can see above, the understated cardigan, Alexi, tones down the printed silk blouse and pearls.

 

 

The moss stitch Cardigan, Darcy, also allows me to get away with wearing this outrageous Italian skirt, grounding it with a monochromatic texture that tames the audacity of the design.

 My friend’s advice has proved valuable indeed. As a result, I now own a wardrobe full of practical, modern cardigans designed by Kim Hargreaves, which I can wear to work:

 

 

These solid pieces allow me to sneak in a glimpse of silk or lace, or a bold pattern. But I am starting to feel like it is time for me to break out of this mold!  I have so many great cardigans now that I need some fun pieces I can play with, and what better than some of the silks and beads I adore? Beaded knitting, here I come!

I took Karen Frisa’s beading class at Stitches with a strong bias towards the technique using a crochet hook, as I had heard it was the easiest way. But I discovered to my surprise that I liked the visual effect of pre-strung beads much more, as they sit on top of the knitted surface instead of sinking into the fabric. Once we learned to string beads on the yarn before starting to knit, I was excited to discover this technique is not nearly as difficult as I thought. All you have to do is use a normal needle and loop of thread to work each bead onto your yarn, and the process goes quickly. To see a visual demonstration of this technique, check out this excellent article:

http://www.knitty.com/ISSUEspring06/FEATseducedbybeads.html

 

Within thirty minutes one evening, my mother-in-law and I were able to string 680 beads total onto 3 balls of yarn, almost enough to complete a knitted vest. She found it just as much fun as I did. Pre-stringing beads onto a ball of yarn takes about the same length of time as winding a skein of yarn, and once I realized that, beaded knitting lost its terrors for me. So I immediately started into the project, Glisten, by Kim Hargreaves:

As you may remember, the feminine dandy look has been hot

since fall, 2010. Being an author of Regency fiction, how could I

resist the chance of making a waistcoat? This beaded number

promises to be very flattering on the body because of the

fineness of the 4ply yarn and the deep V-neck, which elongates

the body and minimizes any width in the bust or shoulder area. I

love the way the design incorporates beads without being over

the top. The beads are used as a subtle design detail without

distracting you from the elegant silhouette overall. To knit this

pattern, I chose some beautiful charcoal-colored Rowan 4-ply

soft, and some silver crystal Japanese seed beads in a size 8mm

to contrast with the yarn. The crystal gives the beads a stunning

brightness as they catch the light, but their overall silver tone

allows them to blend with the charcoal yarn, creating a

marvelous fabric:

 

 

It took me a week to knit the back piece, beads and all, on a size 2 needle. That just goes to show that once you string the beads on your yarn, you are ready to go. For me, handling the beads as I am knitting doesn’t take any more time than executing a lace or cable pattern. This really leads me to believe that all I have heard about the difficulty of knitting with beads has been exaggerated. At least in my experience of using a nice twisted 4ply merino, the beads went quickly onto the yarn, and once I got used to handling them, the fabric shaped up quickly. My only complaint is that the beads make the yarn heavier, so I am alternating my beaded knitting with a different project to keep from straining my fingers, which are unused to the extra weight of the beaded yarn.

Elizabeth The Great

I am very enamored of this blazer, "Elizabeth," by Kim Hargreaves. This was my first time knitting a jacket with a notched collar, and I thought the design was quite ingenious. It did take a bit of blocking to make sure that each side of the notch was exactly the same shape and length, but that is what steam is for! I am usually not a fan of knitted collars that emulate suit jackets, as the knitted fabric of the collar inevitably looks less polished than a store-bought piece. But I think Kim Hargreaves successfully avoided a limp or ragged-looking  collar by using a double moss stitch pattern to stiffen it. The aran-weight yarn in the design also added thickness to the collar, which made it look more substantial. I think it blends seamlessly with the rest of the jacket, which is probably the best you can do with a hand-knitted fabric. It did help that I chose a yarn in a dark tweed, which disguises any imperfections with the line of the collar edge resulting from the varying knits and purls of the double moss stitch.

 

 

Underneath the jacket is a print top that I sewed this September in anticipation of pairing it with the purple yarn. I think the print modernizes the jacket a bit, as you can see in comparison to the effect of the jacket paired with a conventional white blouse:

 

For those of us who are attempting to use up our stash, it is particularly satisfying to repurpose yarn from a failed project. My yarn of choice was Rowan felted tweed aran. The first incarnation of it was in Goodwill, which my knitting companions suggested that I rename “Bound for Goodwill” given the disastrous result of that jacket, which did look like it belonged in a thriftstore bin. Whether it was my loose knitting gage or some issue with the pattern I will never know, but the front opening of the cardigan drooped so terribly that I had to give it up. My kind mother-in-law, who happened to be visiting, whisked away the offending mess, unraveled it, washed all the yarn, and wound it into skeins, just like a good knitting fairy! Inspired by her kindness, I was able to start fresh on Elizabeth with my “new yarn” all ready to go!

 

 I scavenged three of the self-covered buttons I had created for Goodwill to make Elizabeth, and I think this allows the buttons to blend seamlessly into the fabric, much like the collar. I did add extra waist shaping to this pattern--you can see the shaping particularly in the back:

 

 My one departure from this pattern was the sleeves. I think some women can really pull off a 70’s inspired flared sleeve, but as this jacket was meant for work, and my style is more tailored, I didn’t favor that. Also, when I knitted up the sleeve according to the pattern, the cuff tapered from a wide trumpet to such a narrow point that it seemed painted onto my forearm. It was just too tight, so I spent about two weeks fiddling with variations, until I was able to create a straight sleeve that slowly widened to the prescribed number of stitches that allowed me to follow the pattern directions for the cap; thus ensuring it would fit into the armhole.

 

 It all turned out well, and I am very relieved.  In case anyone else is interested in knitting their sleeves straight, I have posted instructions below:

 

For a size small sleeve:

Cast on 72 stitches.

Row 1: (Sl1, K1, psso) to end

Row 2: purl

Next 4 rows: double moss stitch

Row 7: increase 1 stitch at each end.

Keep increasing one stitch at each end every 4 rows x 2, then every 6 rows x2, then every 8 rows until your total number of increases is 57 stitches. Continue straight until sleeve measures 46 cm from cast on edge, ending w/ a WS row. Shape cap, following pattern instructions.

 

A Tribute to Chanel!

Chanel, fitting a model, 1960's

 

As a die-hard fan of Chanel's work, I have been searching for a cardigan pattern that lives up to her standard for years. Since 2004, I’ve searched through countless knitting patterns and catalogs, examining “Chanel” inspired designs with no success. Why is it so difficult?

Design by Debby Bliss

 

I think a lot of knitwear designers have focused only on imitating the tweed patterns of vintage Chanel designs, missing the point. It is the elegance of the cut, the perfect fit, the attention to finishing that makes Chanel cardigans so unique. As you can see from the picture above, any handknit that strives to duplicate a woven fabric will likely fail. Trying to force a handknit fabric to act like a weave only distorts it, adding extra bulk. And no hand-crochet trim like the one above comes close to the standards of the trims Chanel had made specially in Italian mills. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate any designer who is brave enough to design a slip-stitch tweed jacket from scratch. Unfortunately, no matter how expertly they are knitted, these designs just scream the loving hands of home!

The finishing on these Chanel imitations is even worse. When you come close to imitating something but don't quite succeed, the result tends to look cheaper than cheap. The worst offenders, to me, are the Chanel wannabes replete with droopy collars, or even, egads, feather trim!

 Design by Crystal Palace yarns

 

 

What these designers have forgotten is that Chanel's power does not come from tweed patterns or fussy edgings. It comes from simple, elegant clothing that is cut close to the body:

Coco Chanel

 

Kim Hargreaves is the first knitting designer I’ve come across that incorporates the best aspects of Chanel’s aesthetic into her cardigans; in particular, the elegant cut and attention to finishing.

Wisdom

 

Kim Hargreaves shaped this standout cardigan, Wisdom, to fit close to the arm scythe, creating a slender line on the body. Her minimalist band of garter stitch trim provides a quiet finish for the edges, allowing the translucence of mother-of-pearl buttons to stand out. You see, Kim Hargreaves didn’t ruin her cardigan with ribbons or feathers or some crocheted edging that would only call attention to what it wasn't. Instead, she designed a classic handknit, complete with normal buttons, that still somehow reminds me of Chanel. I don't know what her inspiration was, but to me, the design contains everything a classic cardigan should have. There is no torturing of fabric, just a simple horizontal stripe pattern in a tweedy yarn that provides depth and textural richness without the bulk of a cumbersome slip-stitch construction.

 

 A simple use of contrast trim at pockets and sleeves adds a quiet touch of visual interest without going overboard. This is the essence of what I have been seeking—a simple tweed that I can pair with silk prints and  work slacks. It is sophisticated and understated, yet somehow it communicates  luxury. After years of searching, I have found the perfect cardigan at last!

 

 

Military Cardigans for Winter 2011

Mystery

Military jackets and cardigans have been a huge trend for Winter 2010-2011. I like the sweater version of a military coat because the softness of the fabric tones down the military style, making it less severe. This design of Kim Hargreaves is my favorite. With her delightful touches such as fold-over buttoned pockets and epaulettes, she makes the most of military style without going too far.

 

Epaulette 

A lot of the military-style outerwear for Winter 2010-2011 has been double-breasted, like these fabulous designs by Burberry:

As much as I love that look, it can be hard to pull off unless you are really slender, as the buttoned up, double-breasted style can really emphasize any width in the chest and shoulder area. Look at how super skinny the models are in the Burberry ad! Kim Hargreaves cleverly addressed this problem in her other military-style cardigan, Isle, where she uses a wide flared peplum to balance out the bulk of the double-breasted top. The narrow waist also keeps it feminine, and makes it easy to pair with a skirt.

Isle

If I compare these two military patterns by Kim Hargreaves, Mystery and Isle, I think Mystery is easier to wear. A deep V neck is flattering for almost any body type, as it creates a vertical line, drawing the eye up and down, which has the effect of lengthening the neck and torso.

Mystery

Mystery is knitted in kid classic, which is an aran-weight yarn, but plenty of waist shaping keeps it from adding much bulk to the figure. However, it does add some, so I reduced the stitches at the waist more to compensate. That wasn't necessary with Kim's other pattern, Isle, because it is knitted with fingering weight yarn, so the resulting fabric is very light and drapes beautifully.

Isle

All in all, I think Kim Hargreaves knocked it out of the park with these two inspired versions of an officer’s jacket. I’m going to be wearing them as much as I can this season, hoping the military style doesn’t go out too soon.

 

Knitting by Numbers: Sweaters that Fit

 

x² + bx + c = 0

\int_{-N}^{N} e^x\, dx 

How many of us knitters were whizz kids in math when we were in school? For me, personally, word problems were terrifying—my girlfriends and I actually had nightmares about math characters—in hers, a giant Sigma Iota sign chased her all over campus! I got as far away from math as I could once I was in college, indulging left-brain only endeavors in literature studies, theater and dance. How ironic is it that now, many years later as a knitter, when I sit down to plan a new project, I’m running word problems in my head? After all these years of fleeing from numbers, I find myself relying on them more and more. The truth is that projecting a desired outcome in length and width of a new sweater is not much different than those word problems that plagued us in school.

 

Knitting by Numbers: Successful Sweaters from 2010

It pains me to admit it, but my greatest knitting successes this year all came down to math. For all the sweaters above, what makes them work as actual clothing is how well they fit my body. That meant a considerable investment in time; reading over a pattern to determine the amount of intended ease the designer had built into a pattern, and the exact measurements that would result from sizes S to M.  (You simply divide the number of stitches at hips, waist and bust in the pattern by the number of stitches per inch in the pattern gage. That gives you the intended measurements for each size and desired amount of ease.) The challenge then is to choose a particular size or even adjust stitch numbers in a size to accommodate my own body measurements and my desired amount of ease. As if that isn’t enough of a challenge, I found it necessary to consistently measure the gage throughout the process of knitting the back and front pieces so that if my gage loosened or tightened up as I went along, (which happened often) I could continue to adjust my increases/decreases to get the desired fit.

 

Reflecting on successes from 2010, here is the formula I found that worked best to simplify my sweater word problems :

 

 

1.              Step one:

     Choose one style of designing and stick to it. In my case, I focused mostly on flat, bottom-up patterns. Actually, most of the sweaters I chose were designed by one design house. Why? Because working within a standardized set of patterns is predictable, and leads to sustained success from one project to the next. I chose Kim Hargreaves because many of her patterns are made with an hour-glass figure in mind, and the ample waist shaping and peplums or ruffles emphasized the ratio of small waist to curvy hips. Once I learned how to adapt one of these patterns to fit me best, I could apply that successful formula to them all. 

)

 

       Step two:

2.    Consistent choices in yarn is another must. Because my gage varies quite a bit, I have learned the hard way to hitch my wagon to a few types of yarn and stick to them as much as I can. Once I have learned what my gage is using 4-ply cotton, for example, I can apply that knowledge to the next project I knit in that yarn, which saved me a lot of unraveling. For example, I knit Petal right after Blossom and was able to achieve a perfect fit because I had just knitted a Kim Hargreaves pattern using that same yarn. On the other hand, when I tried knitting Arielle, which has a similar construction to Petal and Blossom, using handmaiden seasilk, I found my gage playing tricks on me and struggled so much with the different properties of the yarn that I had to unravel the entire thing.

 
3 patterns by Kim Hargreaves: Petal, Blossom & Arielle

I    I bombed horribly knitting Goodwill because the felted tweed aran defied all my attempts to control its gage, producing a loose, floppy jacket that was basically un-wearable. Kristenlynne’s sage advice has certainly proved true for me that consistent choices in yarn are a huge factor for sweater success!

      Step three:

3.     The final and most important factor for success for me is mastering own measurements when planning a project.

 

    This is something I am still struggling with, but I think this is perhaps the most empowering part of knitting one’s own clothes. How many women in America are even wearing the correct bra size? Most of us shy away from measuring ourselves, or from measuring our changes over time, but if we don’t, how will we ever knit sweaters that fit? I was shocked a few years ago, when I took Karen Alfke’s brilliant Stitches class on knitting sweaters that fit. To my embarrassment, we were all asked to measure the knitter sitting next to us from top to bottom, but I learned an important lesson. After several measuring attempts, my partner proved to me that my rib cage , in fact, measured only 31 inches. How was this possible when the bra I had been wearing since highschool was a size 38? I went to Nordstroms for a professional bra fitting a week later and left satisfied with my new size 34, in a cup-size bigger than what I had been wearing before. It seems this is a common mistake that women make, increasing the size of the band to compensate for a cup that is too small.

 

Since bust measurements are so critical to correct sweater fit, I felt very empowered by this experience, and used my newfound knowledge for the next two years when planning out all my sweater projects, incorporating bust darts into many of my tighter fitting sweaters.

 

But as time progressed, my horizontal bust darts grew less and less effective, leading up to the overly tight cardigan, Jen, in which it appears the buttons are threatening to pop off.

 

I was completely mystified by this disaster until this Christmas, when my husband used my supposed measurements to buy me some lingerie.  I went back to Victoria’s Secret in a huff, and put myself through the torture of trying on half a dozen bras in the same size, none of which fit. Forced to rely on a teenybopper salesgirl for help, I pointed out that everything I tried on seemed to be too small, and what could I do? She whipped out a tape measure, spent some time measuring me, and told me without a blink that my true measurement was a 36 inch band, in a cup size even smaller than the ones I was trying on. In the past, I might have been intimidated by the girls' arrogant manner, and ended up buying myself the wrong bra. But after years of knitting, I was armed with measurement experiences, which had proved time and again that my true number is 31 inches. It took some time and patience, and my actually trying on an ill-fitting bra to prove the salesgirl wrong, but in the end, I left Victoria Secret with a 34 inch-band bra in an even larger cup size that fit me perfectly. This experience left me with a few questions--is the cup sizing at Victoria Secret skewed to make women think they are bustier than they really are, or have I actually changed cup sizes, which would explain the bust dart failures in my sweaters this past year? I suppose I will have to make another trip to Nordstrom for a fitting so I can make sure. As embarrassing as this topic is, I bring it up because I am increasingly convinced that  knowing our own topography is a key to gaining mastery over our knits. As stressful as my experience was, instead of leaving the store in tears as I might have in years past, I left feeling empowered, because I was armed with enough knowledge to get the help I needed in the end. It turns out that now those math word problems, instead of adding to my fears, are making me a confident woman after all. 

 

 

Knits of 2010—Cardigans Win!

Raine, by Kim Hargreaves

The New Year is such a wonderful opportunity to look back on the past year’s projects and analyze the lessons learned. I began 2010 with the intention of replacing the last year’s vintage and lace projects with some “real clothing” I could wear to work. Last week, I opened up my knitting cupboard and took out all my sweaters and laid them out on the bed. It was actually kind of encouraging to see that I had some wonderful successes in meeting my goal last year. I will face 2011 with 6 sweaters that I feel are really work appropriate and blend seamlessly into my professional wardrobe:

 

 

What makes me feel these sweaters were so successful is that they were finished well enough that I believe they can pass as “real” clothing. Raine, is my favorite.

I love the tweed yarn, which gives added dimension and texture,

making it a modern knit in spite of the retro flare of the peplum.

This design of Kim Hargreaves is extremely flattering for an

hourglass figure, without seeming too “sexy”, outdated, or

inappropriate for work. This is my favorite sweater of all the ones I

knitted this year.

 

 

 

Audrey in Unst, on the left, by Gudrun Johnson, and Alexi, on the right, by Kim Hargreaves, are my next two favorites for work. The smooth texture of the stockinette and solid colors allows them to blend with all kinds of different printed tops and textured bottoms. What makes these two tops really modern is the close fit, and extra waist shaping that I used. I believe that the reason these two cardigans hang so well on the body when they are worn open is that they are fit so closely to my body shape, with -2 inches of negative ease in the case of Audrey, and -1 inches for Alexi.

 

What keeps these sweaters from being too plain are the delightful retro touches, such as the pockets Kim Hargreaves devised for Alexi, and the lace inset panel Gudrun Johnson conceived for Audrey. All of these sweaters have a bit of a vintage flair, but they are still able to work in combination with modern wardrobe pieces.

 

 

Petal, adapted into a V-neck, above, is a retro-inspired pattern by Kim Hargreaves that really needs a textured bottom, such as this tweed pencil skirt, to tone down the feminine finishing and lace.

 

 

Darcy, another design by Kim Hargreaves, could easily verge into costume territory, given its riding coat construction with a lengthened back, prominent peplum, and tiny buttons. Knitting this in black toned it down. I also wear it open to keep a modern look and because of its waist-shaping, I find it very figure-flattering worn open over a printed top or sheathe.

It is actually a big revelation for me to look over these successful sweaters. Because, this year, by making the momentous decision to throw out my passion for vintage designs and knit practical patterns, I thought I was sacrificing romance. All those years I was clinging to lace pieces that were more vintage costume than clothes, I was keeping my knitting confined to teas with Jane Austen fans. Instead of celebrating my knitting, I created impractical pieces unfit to wear in public most of the time. Now, strangely enough, my most successful work pieces have still managed to hold onto the romance of the best of vintage design--the feminine look, some lace detailing, an echo of the English countryside are all still there, they have just found life in designs, mostly by Kim Hargreaves, that fit modern times. I am amazed to realize that by changing my focus of the patterns I selected, I didn't sacrifice the style I loved, I just brought it outdoors, into my every day life instead of hiding it in a trunk. That's an achievement to be proud of!

 

 

Embrace, by Kim Hargreaves, is one of the first cardigans I’ve ever knitted to keep up with a modern trend and I was super happy that I was able to pull it off. I don’t know whether I will see any of these three years from now, but it was really fun to actually wear something I had knitted by hand that was in the same “cutting edge style” of cardigans I was seeing everywhere, in stores and fashion magazines.

 

So, almost all of my successful work knits were cardigans. I really think knitted pullovers are tricky for work. Most of the pullovers out there are designed for dk and worsted weight yarns, which add a lot of bulk to ones’ figure, and make it difficult to layer the knits with anything else. In my climate, Northern California, it simply isn’t cold enough to wear thick sweaters or vests, and layering is at a minimum. People don’t dress very formally in work environments either, so I find a cardigan often preferable to a suit jacket to create a semi-formal look. Looking over this year's knitting, I have discovered that cardigans are my best friend, and what I love about a textured tweed or moss-stitch cardigan is the beautiful contrast it creates with a silk print or delicate shell, creating a perfect balance between soft and hard.

 

Since the cardigan approach has worked out so well, I’m planning on more of the same next year. There are some lovely tweed and moss stitch wool patterns in my knitting queue that I can’t wait to dive into!

Wisdom, by Kim Hargreaves

 

Jewel, by Kim Hargreaves

 

Elizabeth, by Kim Hargreaves

Happily, The Official Sexy Knitter’s Club has voted in a technique knit-a-long of textured knit and purl combinations, so I will have plenty of knitting friends to share projects and successes with in the coming months! Here’s to a New Year of successful creative endeavors that meet our goals! Happy New Year to all!

Vintage Lace Tank

It seems only fitting to end 2010 with one of the first projects I began it with. This is my design for a vintage-style lace tank, which I started during the lace knit-a-long challenge voted in by The Official Sexy Knitter’s Club at the beginning of this year. I put it aside to fulfill a test-knitting commitment, and then found it almost impossible to get up the nerve to put it back on the needles again. I can't blame it all on the designing process, as it wasn’t even entirely my design. I used a Vogue knitting pattern for inspiration--#11 Lace Tank by Nancy Cassells. Looking at all the different lace patterns in Nancy Cassells’ design, I experimented with how to combine one of them, the large, circular pattern, with the simple vertical pattern used in the midsection of the top. I’m not sure in retrospect that I would use that much of a vertical lace pattern in a tank again, as the stripes over the bust make the girls look more prominent than they need to be. My goal in using so much of the pattern was that it was relatively easy, and would minimize the difficulty of making an entire garment in superfine merino yarn. The lana oro yarn, super fine lace weight from Italy, was wonderful to work with, and I extremely pleased with its supple strength, which allows me to pull the tank over my head with only one strap of the tank fastening using tiny black snaps.

 

The circular lace pattern looks just as cobwebby and “antique” as I could wish, conjuring up images of a trunk full of frothy lace undergarments from yesteryear. This was meant to be a tribute to the delicacy one only finds in special, handmade things, the kind of treasures produced by the labor of a needlewoman, slaving over her work with a lit candle in some attic upstairs. No doubt the lace would have been destined for some countess living in a drafty mansion, who wore nothing but floor-length gowns made of yards and yards of taffeta and Indian silk. All of my heroines in my Regency novels get to wear such clothes, I reasoned, so why shouldn’t I?

 

I have to admit that making such fine lace by hand was not quite as romantic an experience as I had imagined, and there were moments when I wanted to give up in despair, such as when all the tiny stitches snagged on my bamboo needle and refused to move at all. It took me an entire hour that night to knit half a row. For a moment, I considered throwing the wretched thing on the fire, but saner thoughts prevailed. For one thing, I had promised to my entire knit-a-long group in The Official Sexy Knitter’s Club that I would finish this tank by the end of the year. Besides, I had in my stash  a trusty pair of Addie turbos. After the agonizing process of using my fingernails to inch the stitches off the bamboo needles, they slipped like butter over the Addie turbos and knitted up like a dream.

 

 

Unfortunately, living in 2010, there is a decided absence of balls, routs and fine dinners where I could justify wearing this outfit. But that never stops an imaginist from wanting more! Clearly, this lace top demands a skirt made of some sumptuous silk flowered print, in the style of Dolce & Gabanna’s fall line:

 

 

 

I am also fantacizing about knitting an accompanying black cardigan to wear over the lace top, inspired by this Dolce & Gabana look:

 

 

I have just the pattern to use for the belted sweater, a cashmere cardigan from Filatura di Crosa’s golden line:

 

 

Imagine this belted cardigan, in a black cashmere blend, worn over my black lace tank! In the meantime, I will be experimenting with pairing my lace top with jeans and a velvet blazer to see if I can hit on a look that works remotely for modern times. 

 

 

 

Emerald Isle

This is one of the most enjoyable patterns I have worked with for a long time. It was really interesting learning how to knit a box pleat and sew it together afterwards, and I think it creates a very flattering line over the hip. I did build extra waist-shaping into this pattern, and knitted it with one inch of negative ease. Those were the only changes I made to the pattern.

 

Military-style jackets and cardigans are everywhere. It feels like this is the year of the sweater! Very exciting, but I feel panicked at the same time, as if I have to knit non-stop to keep up with this exciting trend towards knitwear dominating fall fashion this year! I felt very much on my own knitting my sweater girl style V-neck last year:

But thanks to Mad Men, the sweater girl look seems to be totally in—did you see the retro sweater spread in September Vogue? It was unbelievable!

 

 

All of the double-breasted cardigans and jackets now have been intriguing as well. How long has it been that double-breasted anything has been popular? Perhaps it’s been out so long because it’s easy for it to go wrong. Without enough waist shaping, that style can look really boxy, in my opinion. What I loved about Kim Hargreaves’ design is the way she gave the masculine military cut a feminine twist with the waist-shaping and box pleats. The design is filled with fully fashioned detailing, and aside from sewing on 18 buttons, I enjoyed every minute of it!

 

Goodwill or Illwill?

St. John Parisian Windowpane Jacket, $1500

 

My knitting mood has been wildly see-sawing lately. First, I went through a puritanical phase, where I vowed to knit only from my stash and save up money to buy a polished jacket for work. That resolution lasted all of three weeks. The problem was, I started looking at jackets to motivate myself to keep on cold sheeping, and I discovered that the tweedy, stylish jackets I liked in stores were ranging in price from $500 to $1500! Wow—either my taste has gotten snobbier, or prices for women’s clothing have shot up since I last shopped!!

 
Lafayette 148 Wacey Weave Lucinda Jacket, $548

Kim Hargreaves solved my dilemma by producing Cherished, a drool-worthy collection of polished tweed jackets, blazers and cardigans. Not only were several of the tweed designs in the book elegant enough for me to wear to work, but the price tag for the yarn is only a fraction of the cost of the jackets I was admiring in the stores.

Besides, knitting the jacket myself, I knew I could create a beautifully

fitted piece without any costly tailoring fees. Having convinced myself

that buying yarn would actually save me money, I rushed out and got a

stunning batch of deep red Takhi Donegal tweed for $75.

 

 

I was plunged into despair when I started knitting the Takhi yarn, as it was just killing my fingers for some reason. To make things worse, the raspberry alpaca yarn that was generously gifted to me to make my lovely Saffron was provoking me to an intense allergy reaction which reddened my eyes and disturbed my breathing, finally culminated in a choking fit.

 

Forced to abandon both projects, I realized my plan to save money by knitting  had turned out the opposite of what I had hoped. Instead of feeling frugal, I was left with two batches of unusable yarn on my hands, and my tweed work jacket was still nowhere in sight! Luckily, I am a member of The Official Sexy Knitter’s Club, which is a group of some of the nicest knitters imaginable. The divine rchrispy, one of the moderators of the group, suggested the perfect solution to my woes—a yarn sale on ravelry! Venturing out to the ISO/destash group, I discovered a list of witty one-line advertisements crafted by the wily huckesters seeking to offload Wollmeise, Madtosh, and a host of other luscious yarns. Inspired by the bustle of activity I saw, I inventoried my stash, listed price tags, and crafted my first ad inviting one and all to try my wares!

            The results were amazing. Within a week, I was able to sell the batches of yarn I couldn’t use, plus one more, resulting in a net gain of $115. With the proceeds from my yarn sales, I was able to buy a really high quality tweed for the Kim Hargreaves jacket at the top of my list, and I still had $40 left over!

 

Absolutely thrilled by this outcome, I knitted like a demon on Goodwill, which I am planning to wear to work over some black and white print dresses. I used Rowan’s felted tweed aran yarn, which feels wonderful in the hands, in a beautiful, deep shade of plum.

Kim Hargreaves' Goodwill

 

 

For a good three weeks I dwelled in the kind of perfect bliss that I usually only find knitting Kim Hargreaves patterns. It was wonderful fun learning to cover buttons with yarn to match my jacket, and I even took crochet lessons to make sure I could pull off the crabstitch trim on the jacket with panache! Then I sewed the pieces of the jacket together, and my happy dream came crashing down. Although the body of the jacket is reasonably fitted, the sleeves look horrifyingly wrong.

 

I have to say, that much as I love Kim Hargreaves as a designer, and her  book, Cherished, in particular, this is the most problematic group of designs I have ever knitted of hers so far. There have been multiple reports of errata for Cherished patterns by different members of the Kim Hargreaves group, but the pattern for Goodwill seems to be riddled with more errors than most. First of all, the instructions say to knit the body of the sweater on size 8 US needles, and the sleeves on size (2/3) which is clearly not right, as it gives a translation of 5mm for both. Secondly, the pattern does not require enough yarn. The other folks I know who are knitting  Goodwill have had to run out and search for at least one or two more balls in the same dye lot, which is never an easy thing to find. Thirdly, and most tragically of all, my sleeves turned out to look wackadoodle in my opinion!

 

 

Who knows, perhaps this was user error, but I've never had this problem with Kim Hargreave sleeves before! I followed the pattern instructions verbatim, yet I ended up with a loosely fitted jacket combined with sleeves so tight that hardly a single layer of tissue-thin cotton fabric can fit underneath. Imagine if I had knitted the sleeves with size 2 needles instead of size 8--they would have been even smaller! So much for wearing a dress under this! Not to mention the proportion problems that the super tight sleeves create. First of all, the body of the jacket loose, so the exaggeratedly narrow sleeve creates an illusion that the midsection of the body is much wider than it really is. Just what all of us ladies want—for our torsos to look wide!

Second of all, the flared cuff is way too big in contrast with the tight-fitting arm of the jacket, giving a decidedly 70’s vibe. This wouldn’t be so strange if it the 70’s cuff sprang out, like an opening flower, at the wrist, but the way the pattern is written, the sleeve (at least mine) is about 4 inches above the wrist, which is a strange place to sport an unnaturally open cuff!

 

After throwing myself so whole-heartedly into this project, hoping to create a well-thought out jacket with unique details, I feel terribly disappointed. For the sake of finishing, I am going to unravel the sleeves and knit a dumbed-down version with a simple cuff and pass the flare by, even though that was one of the design details I liked most about the jacket. However, I just can’t see a flared cuff at the wrist giving me anything but a 70’s disco jacket, and to have the cuff end four inches short of the wrist is unflattering on my arm, and perhaps that of anyone who is not a six foot model with arms and legs that just won’t quit. Actually, the only reason it looks okay in the design photos is that the sleeve is extremely loose, so the flare doesn't create such a glaring contrast. If you don't want that, fellow knitters, you may need to add 1-3 inches to your sleeve width to get the look in the pattern photo, or perhaps this problem is confined to size XS. Since I’m rather a curvy gal of only five foot seven, I need to create an illusion of length in my torso, arms and legs, rather than shortening them and making them look wider than they are! As sad as I am to lose the flare detail, the point is to knit something that flatters me, so I will just have to settle for that.